


Dead Angels

by Sarshi



Category: Supernatural, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Plotty, Romance, Tricksters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-16
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-05 12:17:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarshi/pseuds/Sarshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel wasn't the favorite angel of the Host, considering. Neither was Castiel, considering. So playing dead and staying mum was probably the best idea. Considering. <br/>But Loki wasn't fond of considering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unknown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KDHeart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KDHeart/gifts).



> A long overdue story for a friend. So long overdue that it started off being Supernatural back when there was no hint of the coolness of The Avengers. I'm hoping Loki will save the day for me :P

All you had to do was burn a little. 

You looked your enemy squeare in the eye, stood your ground, waited to feel the cold steel, extended your wings wide and _burned_. The imprint you left was big, dark, wing-shaped. Exactly like the one burned by grace imploding and vanishing with the death of an angel. You burned, cut yourself off from the Angel Network and you played dead like a clever Trickster Archangel. 

Gabriel had not quite so much _deserted_ the boys as gently made his way out of the scene and let them decide the history of mankind as God would have wanted it. 

When Castiel had thrown up Leviathan and writhed in pain on the shore, shivering from drawback and possession by mystical creature, Gabriel had picked him up, disconnected him from the Angel Network and hidden him. It was the least he could do for a fallen little brother.

Soon they were two not-quite-angels-anymore hiding in houses made by Trickster magic, playing dead, playing guardian angels to two oblivious brothers, playing chess and playing with fire whenever they had to remove the boys from Leviathan or Leviathan from the boys without letting anyone knowing they were there. Gabriel had also suggested playing tonsil hockey to pass the time - but he had been turned down.

All in all, it was an exciting-unexciting life of risking their existence and getting bored during long afternoons, squabling like (human) siblings and drinking funny-named cocktails with umbrellas - but not getting drunk; they were angels, after all - while they went invisible and twisted the space-time continuum to make sure that the boys got out of crap alive and that the world survived just enough so it would be salvageable. It was going swell. Well, swell until this time when Castiel wandered off and got himself discovered by a woman and had to play amnesiac to pretend he had no idea he was alive either. Which meant that Gabriel had rubbed off on him, but also that Gabe was now alone. Which was kind of frustrating when the boys found Cas and Gabe lost hope of Cas returning and their chess match ever finishing. 

Then Cas went and got himself possessed by Lucifer who'd ridden Sam right out of the hellhole he'd been cast in (what were the odds) and for some reason neither of the boys could tell. And Bobby was a ghost. So it was about time, Gabe decided, to drop by and admit he was still alive and could help more actively before they were all doomed, when there was a storm as big at the one that had signalled the Word of God being (re-)revealed; and then a man fell out of the sky.

Which was when the oddness started. And it was weird to say that _then_ , after Lucifer and Eve and the Leviathan, but there you go.

* * *

It was long before Loki hit the ground that he knew something had gone very, very wrong. Maybe it was the feeling of being ripped inside out and then put back in the wrong order, or maybe it was the fact that he seemed to pass through what was for void what void was for solid steel and concrete. Maybe it was the fact that it seemed to last forever without taking any time.

It all put him in such a state that even if he saw the ground approaching he was in no condition to halt his fall, even if that would mean painfully becoming a pancake once that kilometer between him and the rocks had elapsed. But hey. A kilometer. It would take awhile. Maybe he could recover on the way. 

It would be, what? About 20 seconds? He could calculate more thoroughly, considering gravity and the way his clothes helped him slow down, but... 

Too tired. Too short a time. 

Might as well be a pancake. 

And then he realized he wasn't falling quite as fast anymore. In fact, he was slowing down very fast (was there something wrong with that sentence?). He was nearly there. Almost. He turned on his back and lightly landed on the ground, gentle as a feather. Huh. His magic was amazing. He hadn't even felt himself doing something.

And then he saw the guy not far from him approaching, looking somewhat worried. "Are you alright?" he asked. There was something vaguely god-like about him. Also something smelling of burned feathers, for some reason. It reminded Loki of that one time when he'd convinced a chicken it was a phoenix and gotten it to jump in the flames of its own accord. He'd eaten it afterwards. It had been delicious. 

"Yes," he said. Maybe it had been the other man's magic that had softened his fall. But who was he? Some local god, perhaps. Or one of those Indian deities, too many to count. 

The man extended a hand. "Call me..." Loki grabbed it and pulled himself up. For some reason the short other god looked surprised. "Loki," he said, seriously. 

There was a short pause as Loki waited for the man to continue that thought. "What?" he demanded. You didn't just use somebody's name, then stop.

"Loki." The man repeated, looking at him in a weird way. "You know. Norse god."

"Yes," Loki replied. "I do know." He let a bit of chill and frost in the atmosphere to prove that not only did he know, but the other god was an imbecile. It was a gesture he very nearly regretted when the breath was knocked out of his chest by magical effort, but he was Loki and he would stand tall even if it hurt. 

"Oh, good." The man grinned at him and wiggled his eyebrows. "And what do I call _you_?"

There was something odd about the conversation, Loki thought. It was as if they weren't quite connecting somewhere, although he couldn't say exactly where. Maybe the imbecile god was insane. Maybe he was just too tired to see and understand. And he _was_ tired. And in pain. He had been lying down so nicely just a few seconds ago, maybe he could lie down again. He was in no mood for games and could think of no plot that required he give a title instead of a name. So, knowing he would regret it later, he conceded.

"Just call me Loki," he said. 

There was another pause in the conversation. "What?" the imbecile god asked.

Let it never be said he was kind to those who saved his life, then. "Are you a complete fool, or are you simply trying my patience?" he snapped. 

"You said call you Loki," the imbecile god repeated. 

"Oh, for the love of-" Loki said, turning away. He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have anything he loved right now. And he had no patience. "Goodbye, anonymous imbecile god," he called over his shoulder. Then he went on muttering in a voice just loud enough, hopefully, to be heard. "Kill yourself before you get between my feet and make me stumble. I'd love to have your skin for it and I wouldn't let you die until I made a rug of it."

"Wait, what?" the imbecile god muttered in his own just-loud-enough voice. "Loki! Loki? You can't be _Loki_ , you rat's ass! Get a grip and look at yourself. Tumbling from the sky and nearly smashing your skull against rocks. If you were Loki, you wouldn't just be righting yourself and slowing down. You'd be flying."

Loki had stopped and turned. "You just called me Loki," he pointed out. "And yes, on another day I'd be flying. Provoke me again and you'll be flayed. Alive."

"I didn't call you Loki!"

"Tell me, imbecile god, are you always a virgin because you can't remember ever having sex or because your stupidity is so great no woman would debase herself with you?"

"Oh, _come on_!" the god said, looking just as frustrated as Loki felt. Maybe he was a mirroring imbecile god with no memory. A monkey crossed with a goldfish. "Let me re-emphasize that for you. I didn't call _you_ Loki. Now, I don't know who you think you are - no, scratch that. I know exactly who you think you are. Because, guess what? You think you're me."

"I am Loki, son of Laufey, raised by Odin with Thor as my so-called brother."

"You don't even know your mythology," the imbecile god sneered. "I am Loki, son of Fárbauti and Laufey. I am jötunn, I am god. I am the father of Hel, and of Fenrir the wolf and the world serpent Jörmungandr is my son as well. I am the father of Nargi and the mother of Sleipnir."

"You know something of my family, imbecile god. Laufey was indeed my father and--"

"Father!" the god sneered. "Father, hear that! Laufey was my mother, you horned pussbag. At least read about the people you impersonate before you go around claiming that you're them to them themselves."

"And you should know better than to believe human-told stories. Laufey, my _mother_..."

So then the imbecile god broke off cursing in old Norse, Loki cursed him back in the same language and then switched to the even older Norse, which the imbecile god matched curse for curse. So Loki sat down, supposedly in anger, but in truth because it would be tiring to proceed, then turned himself into his jotunn form. It kicked the breath out of his chest again, but it made the imbecile god shut up. 

It was funny. Now that he'd been shut up all Loki could think was that this had been a waste of time and he should have simply left. 

"You're... not kidding about the Loki thing," the imbecile god said.

"I am not," Loki replied, his usually silver tongue now poisonous. 

"Awww." The god looked up towards the skies. "Dad, you just _had_ to go around screwing things to high hell, didn't you?"

"Asgard is not that way," Loki pointed out.

"No, no it isn't," the imbecile god said. "I know this is going to sound migh-ty weird, but you have to trust me when I say that in this world I'm Loki. I can take you to our Asgard and I can introduce you to Thor and Odin as we have them here."

"I'd rather not be introduced," Loki hissed. "And I'd rather you stopped telling others you were me."

"Actually," the imbecile god said. "You've been on earth, you know what it looks like. Do you know anybody here?"

"I do." Curiosity only killed the cat because it was too weak to survive.

"Awesome. You're a clever guy, I know. Mostly because no Loki could ever be stupid. I'll show you around. The thing is, I think you fell from a parallel universe. I've never heard it happen before, but the humans thought of it, which means old dad who made the world did too."

"Fárbauti did not make the world." Loki hadn't bothered to remember the name. "Do you know why? Because he doesn't exist."

"Yeah. I know. I know he didn't make the world and I know he doesn't exist. I invented him. I also invented Laufey. But I wasn't talking about him. Hey, welcome to my world by the way," the imbecile god said. "It seems I have somebody to play with again. Do you play tonsil hockey?" 

Loki felt a tingle of recognition in the tone that was said in, even if he didn't know the words. 

"You cannot trick the Liesmith," he said. You actually could, but he wasn't about to say it. It sounded much more impressive to put it this way.

"Yeah, actually? You can," the other god said. "But now you're just trying to impress me by saying that."

A small chill rose a single hair at the back of Loki's head. The imbecile god smiled and winked at him. Something was, Loki thought, not entirely right.


	2. Somewhere Else to Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Purgatory is taken by a very, very small storm. And the storm does not escape unscathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here be the second installment :) How do you have Eve and Lilith be the same? :P

It _burned_ , was all that Sam could think. It was the first thing that he really noticed that day. It _burned_. His soul was on fire, his body dropped dead and vanished into ashes scattered in the winds. It _burned_. His eyes, that he no longer had, burned. His skin, that had disappeared, burned. His tongue, no longer there, scathed the inexistent roof of his mouth, its flame rising into his brain and eating his skull. 

His body was no longer there, but his soul remembered what it meant to burn, interpreting the burn in the only way it knew how to interpret it: by feeling every single flame in his body. And burning made everything very, very real.

He shouldn't have said 'yes' to Gabriel. He should have wondered how the archangel was still alive, but all he could hear inside his head when Dean vanished and Crowley told him that his brother and Cas were in Purgatory, was 'In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti', which was a very weird thing to have inside your head. 'Hear my prayer' his mind had said. 'Lord, hear my prayer'. And it was odd, because Sam, despite knowing angels and fighting demons, was not a church-goer, nor a Christian, nor anything much in particular. 

And then there was Gabriel, telling him they were going to Purgatory because Lucifer possessed Cas and Dean was in a world of trouble. That had made sense in the dream-logic of his mind and he had agreed to go. There was a man with Gabriel, who was Loki, and who was not Gabriel despite being Loki - and that had made sense as well. 

And now he burned. Maybe he was a Sam-shaped thing in the universe and every single particle of that Sam-shaped thing was ablaze, breathing fire in and out, perishing under a huge flame composed of a myriad of tiny flames. Or maybe he was a single Sam-spot, a soul that was a single, indivisible unit, and that burned so much that it couldn't even begin to comprehend the pain except by remembering what it meant to be made of smaller things. 

When he landed on the floor, still gasping and writhing (did he have a body? Was he really flailing around the way he thought he was? Had he made himself a body? Transformed his older one? Was he still a soul?), he noticed Gabriel's shape from the corner of his eye. The archangel had landed on one knee, ablaze with light, but not in pain. Later he would realize that what he'd felt coming off the archangel was righteous anger. 

And on the other side, Loki (who was Loki? Why had Gabriel brought him along?) was shaking his head, his long hair beating against his face. 

"Unpleasant," Loki said. 

Sam finished screaming sometime around then.

"Sorry, Sammy boy," Gabriel said towards him. "Humans don't have much resistance when it comes to travelling between worlds. It's not so bad for gods."

"And you're a god," Sam spat. He didn't spit because he was angry. He spat because his mouth was full of blood which needed to get out of his mouth. Maybe he'd bitten his tongue. He couldn't tell yet. 

Sam slowly climbed to his feet and noticed Loki looking down on him. "Humans," the dark-haired man said in a tone that spoke of disdain. "Puny creatures."

"It's because I'm an angel that I'm perfectly fine," Gabriel chirped with the air of one who was interfering to stop a fight. Sam didn't know why he bothered. He, for one, was in no condition to have a match with somebody who was obviously not human. Not now. He looked around instead. It was a big room, a very big room. Stone walls, thin pillars. Pointed arches, stone benches. 

"Why are we in a Catholic cathedral?" Sam asked. 

"Oooh, boy," Gabriel said. "Not a Catholic cathedral, kid. A Gothic cathedral, I'll give you that - although they're really not supposed to have spiralled pillars and they should have windows. A Luciferic cathedral." 

Sam blinked. Loki - another Loki? A god Loki?... Loki was touching the benches and inspecting the architecture. Some candles burned in an eerie red light. The sculpted figures on the walls showed angels fighting, swords sparkling in the light of the sun. He saw what was possibly Lucifer, with bat wings, opening - or locking - the gate to Purgatory, where the monsters howled. 

"Satanic..." he started. 

"Welcome to Purgatory," Gabriel said. "God didn't look twice at this place. Hell, heaven, earth... those were his favorites. Purgatory is so low on the list of priorities that Orthodox Christians don't even believe it exists."

"But Luciferic..."

"Those in Purgatory have often felt that Lucifer would give a damn," Gabriel explained.

"If they are so willing to submit to Lucifer," Loki murmured, interrupting their conversation, "why doesn't Lucifer use them as his army?"

Sam sat on one of the stone benches. He thought that no matter what sort of God didn't give a damn, nobody in Purgatory _really_ wanted Lucifer as their God-subsitute. Sam could remember the fallen angel all too well. It made him want to die and never awaken in any world again rather than _remember_ one more time. 

"Here's a true cynical person for you!" Gabriel said, with a wide smile. Sam found he didn't have much he wanted to smile about just now, which made him look at Gabriel as if he would have been a sore thumb, sticking out. "Why not, indeed. Because he was trapped in his own private hell for the longest time, then he didn't manage to get Purgatory opened enough for the... residents... here to come out. He could do what I just did, take a small number of hikers on his back and move them around, but it would take a lot of time and effort. It wouldn't pay out, not considering the weakness of the creatures here."

"Leviathan..."

"Leviathan was a unique case, Sammy boy. You managed to defeat Eve easily enough and she's right behind Leviathan in power."

"Eve?" Loki asked, also sitting on a bench.

"Eve, wife of Adam," Gabriel said. "Sam and his brother Dean-o fought her and sent her back here."

Sam perked up. "What? _The_ Eve?"

"Don't you know what you've fought?" Loki said, voice smooth and sarcastic. He didn't add anything like 'stupid humans' or 'monkeys' or anything of the sort after that. He didn't have to. It was all in his intonation, eyes, body language. 

"Genesis says Adam had his first son when he was 130 years old and he lived 800 years more," Gabriel said. "They never mention Eve dying. It's not because she was a woman and therefore mattered less. The story just... got complicated. After Eve was seduced by Lucifer and slept with him before she ever slept with Adam, God cursed her to hate Lucifer and to want Adam and bare his children. Poor girl, she kept demanding him to sleep with her and make her children, even if she didn't really want that to happen. She effectively demanded to be raped again and again."

"Wait, what?" Sam said. Gabriel turned to look him straight in the eyes, but kept going. 

"So Eve was to bare Adam's children, Adam was to try to crush Lucifer, Lucifer was to poison Adam. And all of Eve's children were meant to hate her first lover. Just because Adam had complained she'd found an angel much more handsome than she found him. And let me tell you something - Adam wasn't that handsome. Nor that clever. Just your usual Homo Sapiens who thought the world was made for him and the fact that it was true didn't make it any better. Now, Lucifer... Lucifer was a much better match for her. She had a Trickster smile and a dry humor, and she was clever. She was willful, too. She wanted to be on top of Adam when they had sex after that, but he never let her. He could never win, except by force. Mind you, I'm not saying this to claim that feminists are right - Cain was a very decent fellow who took after his mother in brains and looks. When Abel started behaving badly towards Eve and tried to have sex with her - they had no sisters back then - Cain stopped him and killed him by accident. Adam was _fuming_ , but God interfered and placed His sign on the boy and forbade Adam to touch him. Then He created a few more humans and gave wives to Adam's other sons, when they came to the scene. Still, Eve finally hated Adam much more than she wanted him and she learned sexual denial.Daddy dearest didn't provide against that and maybe he didn't want to in the end. So Eve ran away and the Bible left that out because it was written by the pig-headed guys who took after him. The guys who took after Eve built the pyramids. So Eve sought out Lucifer and couldn't find him. He was already locked up in his private hell after the fight with the Host of heaven. But Eve found Samael, my brother the archangel of death, and bore his children instead."

"I think I'm going to be really disturbed, now," Sam said. 

Loki was smiling, however. "Finally, a Christian story worth telling."

Gabriel smiled back at him. "If it's blood you want, I have more."

"Not just blood," Loki said. "Blood and sense and sex and power and creatures other than humans."

"Oh, there's more, I assure you," Gabriel purred.

* * *

Gabriel was enjoying himself. He'd worried about Sam for awhile there, him being human and basically needing to be ripped apart and reconstructed to make it to Purgatory, but he seemed to be almost fine now. Technically they should be going out as fast as possible, considering the fact that they were deep within enemy territory and in a place that was bound to have visitors soon enough, but they could wait a bit to recover. He would talk to keep Loki entertained while Sam rested. He was amused at how well he could guess Loki's thoughts and interests despite only having met him. It was probably because no matter in which would you were Loki, you would still be Loki. So he would say all the dirty, disturbing things that amused himself and watch another twisted mind enjoy them.

Gabriel also found he liked the cathedral. You had to give credit to the monsters of Purgatory. They had picked up quite a bit of architecture along the way - and really, considering that vampires had a long time to become knowledgeable before they died, it was somehow logical that sooner or later somebody would build a Gothic Luciferic Cathedral, with all that that implied. Red, low light, somber mood and hard benches and floors made of stone polished by the bodies of creatures praying in Lucifer's name and spending unholy sacred rituals in long orgies. He'd heard tales and maybe sneaked inside to see for himself. 

"There was a poet once," he told Loki. "Whose name was Milton." He pointed to a wall, where he recognized Milton. "They call him Prophet here. He told a tale of how Lucifer created his daughter, Sin. And slept with her and they made Death. And Death raped Sin and from her hellhounds were born."

Loki chuckled. Sam looked about to throw up. Gabriel would have guessed that Sam would know the story - but then, it would sound horrible even if he _did_ know it. Or maybe Sam was still shaken from being thrown from one world to another. "Is it true?" Loki asked.

"Not really. Lucifer slept with Eve, not sin. And neither of them was Samael's parent. But it's close enough. Eve is sleeping with her children now, as far as I know. There's not that many people who aren't her children around here and she's never liked Leviathan."

"All other supporters of your strange religion tell me about love and attonement," Loki said in his smooth voice. 

"They're more fond of that part. And they may also be trying to curb your violence, you know?" 

"You're not."

"I have nothing to fear. I bet I can do whatever I want with you." 

"Oh, really." Loki said. Well, Gabriel had always liked a challenge...

"Guys?" Sam said. He was a good boy, Gabe thought, even if he was always ruining his fun. "Erm..." The angel turned towards him, ready to admit that yes, he'd been flirting, yes, with Loki whom, no, he didn't know well and no, it wasn't Sam's business and... Except he realized that the 'erm' wasn't about the exchange between him and Loki and that the really embarrassing part where Gabe would have to explain that sex was a perfectly natural thing to have when you were asserting dominance over another god wouldn't need to be said. Because Sam was 'erm'-ing about a man in a minister's suit who had just walked in.

"Fuck," Gabe said instead, keeping in line with the explanation he'd thought of giving. 

For a few seconds, they stared at the minister in silence. The minister stared back. Then suddenly there were dogs. Big dogs. The bigger version of hellhounds, the visible version of the beasts of hell. Black. Drooling. Growling. 

"Run," Gabriel said. It sounded almost casual. His turning around on his heels and heading straight for the door was also quite casual.

And then they were running. Straight out the door into a crude underground tunnel. Somebody hadn't finished building this part, or maybe they didn't much care for having their (illegal, by the way) Gothic Luciferic Cathedral discovered due to over-decoration. Gabriel imparted some strength to Sam and they nearly flew down corridors, past shapeshifters and vampires, werewolves, a phoenix and something he didn't bother recognizing. They turned one corner after another, the howling of the hellhounds behind them, the curses of the Supernatural beings following them as the other beings around ducked or jumped out of the hounds' way. 

"Make us invisible!" cried Sam. 

"They see through illusions!" Gabe cried back. Then, because he was a fast thinker, he thought they couldn't see through truth, however. Illusions were projections you threw at other's minds. Magic was the world changing.

He snapped his fingers and suddenly there was music all around them, spreading underground through the corridors on a 5 km radius circle from the point they were at, everywhere just as loud. Of course, he'd calibrated the exact height of the corridors. It wouldn't do to put a huge sign saying 'something weird is happening here' on the surface. So, now they had a sound cover, which wouldn't allow hellhounds to hear them properly. They had a cover that was also musical because Gabriel was amazingly cool that way and knew what epic songs to use when running away from dangerous enemies that he didn't want to be facing just now. Technically, he could beat the hellhounds. Practically, it took more effort than just running from them and said 'powerful creature here', which he didn't want to do.

_Thun-der._

They jumped between a group of vampires and took a right.

_Thun-der._

Ducked down an empty corridor. 

_Thun-der._

Gabe made them run on the ceiling. 

_Thun-der._

And realized that the hounds could run on ceilings as well. 

_Thun-der._

They were back on the floor, except when they had to avoid someone again. 

_Thun-der._

Gabe started modifying the walls and ceiling to hinder the hounds.

_Thun-der._

They were passing the Luciferic Cathedral again. Dammit. The place was a maze great enough to confuse an archangel.

_Thun-der._

"I really, really, really..." Loki said.

_Thun-der._

"...do not approve of your musical tastes!"

_Thun-der._

"Fuck off, it's AC/DC!" Gabe cried back as the song broke into actual lyrics. He actually sealed off a corridor behind them and the hounds had to chew through it. Gabe spent some time figuring out how to get out of the maze. While running, of course. Then he realized that the running monsters all around them were probably heading for the exit and he could just follow them. 

_Thunderstruck!_

"I hate you," Loki said. 

And Gabriel kept running, throwing his magic behind him, until he led them safely out of the maze and underneath the vast, purple sky. Technically the hounds could follow them outside. Practically, they wouldn't. Hellhounds, like the Luciferic Church, were banned. 

The angel turned towards Loki. "I'll have you know AC/DC is epic, regardless of any Thor."

"I am saying that the lyrics could be different."

"What would you rather have them say instead of 'thunder'? 'Loki' perhaps?... It may have the same number of syllables, but it doesn't have the same resonance. Trust me, I tried."

"Whenever I hear 'thunder', I am unpleasantly reminded of my brother." Loki was glaring at him. Gabriel considered telling him to suck it up and live a little.

"Thunder reminds me of my dad and Thunderstruck of the best sex I've ever had," the archangel said with his 'I am lying' face, which in this case looked exactly like his 'I am offended that you think you're suffering when I'm suffering so much more' face. "How's that for thinking unpleasant thoughts?" He was a _master_ of making things up and acting them out. His lying face could be anything he wanted it to be.

"Are you flirting?" Sam asked. 

"No," the Lokis lied in tandem with their perfected 'I am lying faces'. If Sam didn't get dominance games between ancient gods, Gabriel wasn't about to explain and Loki was even less likely to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you may be thinking. 'My god, this girl is getting Gabe and Loki in a relationship together mighty fast, with one heck of a flimsy excuse'. 
> 
> To this, dear reader, I may say: 'have you seen Gabe? And the Casa Erotica thing? Putting on a porn show immediately after explaining the Apocalypse? Have you seen demons and their sexy ways? I bet Gabe ain't far from that. And I'm willing to bet Loki isn't an innocent, either. Bad guys get all the kinky fangirls. So why shouldn't sparks fly, for awhile, before they regain reason?'


End file.
